


Goodnight

by Auggusst



Series: Heart and Mind [21]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Babies, Baby Peter Parker, Communication, Domestic, Emotional Baggage, Established Relationship, First Time Parents, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Parenthood, Parents, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Slice of Life, baby feeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:38:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24800170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auggusst/pseuds/Auggusst
Summary: Having a month and a half old baby is exhausting, especially when your relationship isn't 100% perfect. Steve and Tony do their best as parents, and as bondmates, and acknowledge there's a long way to go before things are perfect again.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Heart and Mind [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670740
Comments: 38
Kudos: 385





	Goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> SURPRISE!!! My brain said "oh we writing out of order luv!!!"  
> I interacted with not one, but TWO different babies in a dream last night and knew that I had to push this one up on the time table. Besides, I love keeping everyone guessing and trying to fill in the gaps in the timeline hehe. Makes it fun, right? Hope you enjoy this.

Being a parent was, unsurprisingly, difficult.

Tony knew having a newborn wouldn’t be easy, but he may have underestimated exactly just how _exhausting_ it could be. Peter was only a little over a month old, and, as one month olds tended to do, woke up more than a handful of times during the night. Sometimes he was hungry, sometimes he needed to be changed, and sometimes he simply needed to be held. Tony didn’t mind, really. He’d suffered a lot to get his little bundle of joy, and he’d do anything for his son, would wake up as many times as he needed to make sure his child was safe and happy.

The problem was, he had a tendency to run himself ragged doing it.

Steve was there for him of course, did anything and everything he could, both as a parent and as a mate, but Tony was a little…protective, he supposed, and more often than not took on every task himself instead of letting Steve handle it.

Steve tried not to be upset about it. He understood that it would take a long time for them to have what they used to, for Tony to forget, to trust entirely, like he used to. He trusted Steve enough, obviously, because they were sleeping in the same bed again, and hugged and kissed, and Steve spent a lot of time with Peter too, but sometimes, Tony couldn’t help but withdraw, to become guarded all over again.

Steve just wished he knew how to fix it, knew how to earn it all back, what he once had. He was happy of course, and Tony was happy too, but they could be so much _happier_. Steve regularly wished he’d never left at all, that he’d been here the whole time, that he could have supported Tony while he carried, and that none of the bad had ever happened. He wished he could have been the man Tony thought he was when they bonded.

Well. Steve would just have to try to become that man, even if it took the rest of his life.

He wished Tony would just let him take care of things once in a while, though. It was clear he was exhausted, had been from the start, but always insisted on doing everything, on doing the midnight feedings himself, climbing in and out of bed so many times a week Steve lost count. He offered every time to go himself, and once in a while managed to beat Tony to it, but there was always a little resistance there.

Steve was having trouble sleeping tonight, or more accurately, falling back asleep, thinking about it all. It was almost 2am, and Peter had been asleep for three hours already, since his last awakening, allowing Tony some much needed rest. The brunet’s face was pressed against his pillow, mouth gaping slightly. There was a drool mark seeping into the pillow, and his arm was tucked under him at an odd angle, but his breathing was slow and steady, and Steve couldn’t bring himself to interrupt him, even to move him and make sure he was more comfortable. Tony’s scent was soft and sweet like this, without stress, and it soothed Steve’s heart as he regarded the general form of his mate in the dark.

He loved him, so much. After over half a year being apart, he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to be here again, to see, to hold Tony in his arms. He’d been so sure he would never have the chance again, would spend the rest of his life lonely and miserable and regretful. Now, he was still full of regret, but he’d been given a second chance, and he intended not to squander it. He would do, and be whatever Tony needed, as he intended to from the start.

Steve was finally starting to drift when the telltale sound of crying reached his ears through FRIDAY’s speakers, faint at first, just an indication Peter was stirring, but then the volume kicked up and he started to properly cry.

Steve’s eyes snapped open immediately. Unfortunately, so did Tony’s. Or, they tried to at least.

His body jolted, and he groaned a little, turned immediately to try and get up, to follow the sound next door to the nursery. It was instinctive, and ingrained in him after only a few weeks, but that wasn’t entirely helpful when he was this tired.

“Woah, hey,” Steve said softly, laying a soft hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got it.”

“No,” Tony protested, voice soft and thick from sleep. He brought a hand across his face to rub his tired eyes. “No, I’ll do it.”

“You’re _exhausted_ ,” Steve replied, gently pushing him back down on the mattress. “Please, honey. I’ve got it. Really.”

Tony hesitated a moment, torn between following his instincts, the natural pull at his chest hearing his baby crying, and listening to reason. He was, admittedly, feeling exhausted. He’d been exhausted so much of his life though that he just powered through it without a second thought, and felt he _had_ to, even now, because Peter was his baby, and he should be able to do anything for him, but…But maybe Steve was right. If Tony kept going at this pace, he was going to drop.

Maybe it was okay to rely on Steve occasionally, despite everything that had happened. Since coming home, he hadn’t done or said anything damning, was always trying to help, and was, admittedly, a very good father, whenever Tony let his guard down and allowed Steve to get involved.

It wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ Steve involved, he was just, sort of scared, in his subconscious, that things could go bad again, that they might have to separate for good, and he kept Peter a little closer to his chest so to speak than he probably should, sometimes literally. It would take a while to unlearn it, to allow himself to trust entirely again.

Right now, when he could hardly keep his eyes open, he was willing to put a little more work into that prospect.

Tony licked his lips, regarded Steve’s face in the dimly lit room. FRIDAY had turned up the lights a little when the crying started, just another little indicator Tony had applied to her new subset of protocols, which he cleverly dubbed the NAN-E program. He looked a little tired too, but his eyes were soft, pleading, horribly beautiful as always, and the brunet found himself heaving a sigh, and nodding.

“Okay,” he said, and let Steve’s hand guide him back against the soft mattress. “Just—bring him here. Bring him here.”

“I thought you wanted him to be comfortable only sleeping in his crib,” Steve replied. If it were up to him, Peter would absolutely share their bed, at least for a few months, until he was older and didn’t require _quite_ as much attention during the night, but Tony had insisted the baby be comfortable in his own space, that independence, even this early on, was imperative.

Tony didn’t quite care for his rule at the moment though, just wanted the baby here, with them, so if(when) he woke up again, they could handle it more immediately. Just for a few hours. He didn’t have the energy to say all of that though, so instead let out a little growl at Steve’s statement, and pressed his face into the pillow.

Steve got the message immediately. He didn’t even try to dispute it. “Okay,” he conceded, and got out of bed, made his way to the nursery.

Peter was already over a month old, but Steve didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way it felt, holding his son in his arms. It gave him a sense of peace he’d never known he was even missing, a kind of contentment unique, even, from the joy of being with Tony. His eyes were warm and bright, a brown not unlike Tony’s. He’d already been born with a head full of hair, but it had thickened up in the last month, curled up a little. He was horribly adorable, moreso than Steve could have imagined, but maybe he was just biased.

He loved holding his child. At the same time, it was like holding the weight of the entire world in just a few pounds, a tiny, vulnerable body, which needed to be loved, cherished, and protected. It was terrifying, honestly. Sometimes Steve had to remind himself to just breathe, whenever he thought of the true responsibility of parenthood, of raising a child. It was probably the biggest challenge someone could face.

Thankfully, he and Tony could face it together.

After initially shushing Peter’s wailing into quiet sobs, he determined pretty quickly that Peter didn’t need to be changed, and a short look at his feeding schedule and eating habits indicated the little guy was probably hungry.

Something told him that Tony would throw a fit if he ignored his suggestion of bringing Peter into the bedroom, so Steve made his way there, cradling the infant in his arms, planning to hand him over to his mother (who was surely waiting to receive him instead of catching up on sleep like Steve wanted him to) before heading to the kitchen to warm up a bottle.

As expected, Tony wasn’t asleep when Steve reentered the bedroom. His eyes were half-lidded though, clearly tired, squinting against the light in the room. He was laying on his back, a hand brushing through his disheveled hair, but he scooted up the bed a little when Steve came back in, held his arms out immediately.

“Gimme,” the brunet said, flourishing his fingers insistently.

Steve let out a cross between a laugh and a sigh. “He’s my kid too, you know,” he said, but walked around to Tony’s side, leaned over the bed to hand Peter to his mate.

“Shh.” Tony took Peter into his arms, smiled gently down at him. The baby was still fussing, but Tony took it in stride, rocked him in his arms. He held out a hand for the pacifier, and Steve dropped it into his palm.

“You’re just a sperm donor,” the brunet told Steve, smirking a little. “A very handsome sperm donor.”

“Well thanks,” Steve replied, monotone. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes. “I think he’s hungry.”

“Probably,” Tony agreed, teasing the pacifier against Peter’s lips. His little mouth opened eagerly despite his crying, and closed around the pacifier.

“I’ll go make a bottle,” Steve said, moving to leave the room. “Sit tight.”

“Don’t make too much,” Tony said, voice low, tired. “I don’t think he’ll eat very much. He didn’t last night.”

“Got it,” Steve replied, and moved into action.

Tony relaxed against the headboard, admired the baby in his arms. He knew Steve could handle getting a bottle, and had done it before, but he couldn’t help but emphasize a few points regardless. “And make sure it’s not too hot. Run it under the cold tap.”

Steve was halfway out the door now. “I know,” he sighed. He’d made just as many bottles as Tony at this point; he knew what he was doing.

“Test it on your skin too!” Tony called after him.

Steve tried not to roll his eyes. Tony was definitely overprotective, especially when he couldn’t handle a situation entirely himself. That was okay, though. He’d rather have an overprotective partner than a disinterested one. Tony cared, so much, loved Peter with all his heart, he knew. The moment that little baby was born, Steve knew he’d just become second place, but he was alright with that. Second place had never felt so good.

When the blond returned with the bottle and a burping cloth, Tony gave him a tired, but earnest smile, and took the bottle, set the cloth down at his side. “Thanks,” he sighed.

“Any time,” Steve replied, settling on the bed next to him.

Tony handed him the pacifier, swapped it for the nipple of the bottle, and Peter started sucking on it immediately.

“A little eager, huh honey?” Tony asked, though naturally didn’t expect an answer. “You eat up good. Maybe you’ll sleep a little longer after.”

“It used to work with you,” Steve joked. “Maybe it works for him too.”

“Hilarious,” Tony replied, shifting his arm a little to get more comfortable as he fed Peter.

Steve’s heart swelled a little, taking in Tony’s tired but content face, the low, soothing smell of his scent, mixed with the new, but slowly familiar growing scent of their baby. It was indescribable still, wouldn’t settle into something easily named until Peter was older. For now, it was simply something that identified him as theirs, as their perfect little gift. Steve didn’t think he deserved it, and Tony probably didn’t think Steve deserved it either, but the brunet didn’t pull away when Steve put an arm around him, dropped his chin on Tony’s shoulder to watch Peter eat.

Tony leaned back a little against Steve’s chest, heaved a sigh. Despite the turmoil, the problems that still seemed to float around in his brain, that he wasn’t sure he could ever quite forget, he was happy. He had Steve, he had their son, and for the most part, everything was as it should be, as he wanted it to be, so long ago.

He turned his head, pressed a grateful kiss to his mate’s cheek.

“I love you,” he said softly. “I don’t…I don’t say it enough.”

Steve’s face melted into a smile, and he gave Tony a kiss in return. “I love you too.”

“I know I’ve been kind of…distant, or closed off, especially when it comes to Peter,” Tony said. “It’s…it’s not fair to you.”

“It’s okay,” Steve replied. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, and a lot has happened, a lot of it because of me. I’d be a little offended if you _weren’t_ still upset at me, honestly.”

Tony shook his head. “It’s not…it’s not that I’m upset anymore, I just…” He exhaled slowly. “I’m terrified,” he admitted, gazing down at Peter, the small, vulnerable little baby he’d carried for nine months, who’d been out in the big wide world for only six weeks now.

“I’m scared of what happened between us, what _could_ happen between us. I don’t want to lay my chips all on the table just to have them sweeped off again.”

The blond swallowed hard at that. He had suspected as much, honestly, but couldn’t find a way to placate Tony’s fears, to convince him that nothing would ever come between them again. Steve had learned his lesson, truly, but the only way to show it was to live the rest of his life by his words.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve replied. “I know I’ve said it a thousand times, but I can never express to you just how much I mean it. I’m sorry I did what I did, and I’m so sorry for what it did to you, sweetheart. Don’t feel bad about being guarded. You deserve to be guarded. You deserve more than I’ve ever given you.”

Tony didn’t know how to respond to that. He averted his eyes, nodded a little.

Steve lifted his free hand, gently caressed his cheek. “I know it’ll take a long time for things to go back to the way they were. Maybe…maybe they never will. But I love you, and I love our son. I’ll be whatever you need me to be, Tony. I mean that.”

Tony looked into his eyes, took in his words. He knew Steve meant what he said. He just had to remind himself of it, quite often actually. “I believe you,” he said. “I don’t know how long it’ll take,” Tony admitted.

He still got nightmares, sometimes, about everything. They’d plagued him while he was carrying, and probably wouldn’t stop anytime soon, unfortunately. He wished they would.

“I want it too. What we had, I mean.”

“I’m glad,” Steve replied, a sense of relief settling in his chest. “And if—“

Peter turned his head to look at Steve, shifted the bottle in Tony’s hands in doing so, obviously done eating. Both parents looked down at him immediately, smiled a little at the sigh he gave when Tony pulled the bottle back. He’d eaten a lot; there was just a little bit left in the bottle, not enough to salvage for later.

“Wow. Somebody was hungry, huh?” Tony asked, handing the bottle over to Steve. The blond leaned over the bed, set it on the nightstand.

Peter made a little noise, his big, pretty eyes focused on Tony’s face, enraptured by his presence. It was wonderful, kind of overwhelming actually, how Peter regarded him, all innocence and genuine affection, without the doubt or disdain or any of the other messy, conflicted ways other people looked at him. He didn’t think he’d ever felt anything quite like what it did to him.

Tony smiled at his little cough, but stifled a yawn. His fatigue was catching up with him again. “Let’s get those air bubbles out and then to sleep, darling.”

“Can I do it?” Steve suggested, pulling back the arm that was around Tony. “I know you’re tired. The quicker you get comfortable, the quicker you’ll get back to sleep. You need rest, sweetheart.”

Tony shrugged a little. He _was_ really tired. Sure, he preferred to burp Peter himself, but he’d already fed him, so it was only fair that Steve get to burp him now. He had to learn to be less possessive. The quicker he got comfortable sharing responsibility, the quickly he’d be able to overcome his subconscious hang-ups. Besides, he was damn tired.

“Okay,” he said.

“Thank you,” Steve replied. He didn’t really need to say it, but said it anyway. He draped the cloth over his shoulder and then Tony was handing him Peter. “There we go,” he said softly, lifting him into his arms, and then against his shoulder. “Daddy’s got ya.”

The brunet smiled at that, and another yawn bubbled up. He shuffled down the bed a little, sighed as his head hit his pillow. He watched his mate and infant through half-lidded eyes, heart swelling at how gently the blond rubbed Peter’s back, patted it softly to try and work any air bubbles out.

It took a minute or two, but Peter let out a little burp, and Steve laughed softly. “Bet that feels better, huh?”

“He’s got some powerful burps,” Tony remarked, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, amused. “Do you wanna..?” He nodded his head towards the space between them on the bed.

“Oh, yeah,” Tony replied, and shifted the pillows around to make a safe little spot between them. “Lay him down, careful.”

“I’ve got it,” Steve replied, and gently set Peter down on the bed between them, brushed back his little curls.

Peter yawned, shuffled his legs a little, and closed his eyes, belly full and content with his parents on either side.

Tony smiled, relaxed into the bed himself. He offered his baby a finger, which Peter grasped, held on like it belonged to him. As far as Tony was concerned, it did. The brunet fought to keep his eyes open now, wanted to make sure Peter went back to sleep before he drifted again himself.

“Close your eyes,” Steve said though, reaching across the bed to brush his fingers against Tony’s arm. “I’ll watch him. When I think he’s really out, I’ll take him back to the crib.”

“You sure?” Tony muttered, eyes already dropping.

“I’m sure,” his mate nodded. “You just relax. I’ve got you.”

Well. Tony could hardly argue with that. He didn’t have much of a choice, really. His eyes slipped closed, and he could feel himself slipping under within moments, exhaustion taking over.

Steve regarded him fondly for a moment, and then their baby, a kind of ache settling in his chest, a sense of duty, of protectiveness. _‘I’ve got you,’_ he thought. _‘Both of you.’_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! Let me know what you think in the comments! Once again thanks to everyone keeping up with this series. I'm glad you're all enjoying it as much as I am <3


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